


Pleasant Hatred

by orphan_account



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: Blow Jobs, DHMIS, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony hates Paige, but not always; not entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Hatred

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the weird formatting, the file wasn't being too cooperative.

It had taken her 28 seconds to smear her lipstick. Three for him to wipe most of it from his face. 40 for her to pout and reapply. 15 seconds of trying to remove his tie nicely, two to simply rip it off. He growled, angered by her disregard for any sort of neatness and slid his hand up from her waist, stopping at the back of her neck. Four seconds to get there. Two to wrap his large hand around her thin neck. Five seconds of quiet.

His grip wasn’t threatening, and she grinned. Her teeth stood out against her fresh lipstick as she smiled, and she looked genuinely happy. It made him want to shove a clock hand into her eye.  
She took to unbuttoning his coat, and he squeezed a little bit harder, but she smiled still. The dark, spacial material parted to reveal his bright red shirt, a jarring contrast to the coat. She pushed the coat back off of his shoulders, pulling one arm out. She waited, smiling, for him to release her throat so that she could finish removing his coat. 23 seconds before his arm fell and she tugged his sleeve of. The coat flew off in a random direction and he seethed.

He expected her to begin at his shirt, now, undoing each button carelessly with her tiny hands. He also expected to be wrong, because she was so painstakingly unpredictable. But she did exactly what he thought. Black stains began to form on the fabric where she touched, and she grinned up at him, clearly aware of how long it would take him to remove those stains.  
She popped the last button free and pulled his shirt open a bit. He was muscular, to say the least. She ran her hands up along blue skin, tracing the lines of each muscle he had. She spent 39 seconds doing just this, until she arrived at his waistband.

His pants sat low on his hips, and she ran her fingers along the little bit of blonde hair that rose from the black fabric. He watched her and pulled his gloves off, tucking them into his back pocket before moving his hands to the back of her dress where there was a zipper.

She unbuttoned his pants, sliding her hand over the fabric of his boxers and grinned up at him again, feeling as he pulled the zipper on dress down. She shimmied out of the dress and tossed it out of sight before returning her hands to his pants. The fabric was nice, she noted, as she toyed with the waistband.

She did this for 16 seconds, until he growled at her, a low sound from the back of his throat. She tugged his pants down, along with his boxers, to his knees, and smirked at him. He watched her, impatience beginning to settle.

She stood on her tip toes for a quick second to kiss his cheek before kneeling in front of him, wrapping slender fingers around his dick. He groaned, lacing one hand into her thick hair and giving a short yank, a signal of his impatience. She gave a small giggle but abided, leaning forward to lick a small circle around the head of his cock. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes briefly as he groaned again, deeper this time.

When he looked back down at her, she was staring up at him with large eyes. She took his head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around him and his grip tightened in her hair, urging her on. She sat back on her heels, though, releasing him with a wet pop and a sly grin.

"What the fuck." He yanked her hair, pushing his hips forward a bit. Three seconds for her to abide. She planted small kisses along his dick, and upon reaching the base, dragged her tongue up along the underside. He grinned, just barely, at her lipstick smeared across his skin.

She took him into her mouth again, this time establishing a pace. It was slow and taunting at first, and he could tell she was enjoying his impatience. She stared up at him the entire time and he held her gaze, only occasionally closing his eyes to accompany a moan.

He muttered things, low and quiet, that she didn’t care to identify. His voice was incredible, though. It reminded her of thunder, vaguely, and of whisky. When he spoke more clearly, she rewarded him for it. She found that he liked when she let her teeth drag along his skin, and even more so when she hummed. She chose a tune that would worm its way into his head, though. One she knew he hated.  
It was a song about creativity, and when she first started with it, she pulled on her hair a little and gave a low warning noise, which quickly dissolved into a loud moan when he hit the back of her throat where vibrations were strongest.

He was loud. She had no complaints, though. His moans rang in her ears with increasing ferocity as he was edged closer to finishing. She continued to hum, watching him and he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. His grip in her hair tightened and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He smelled good, like fire and hot metal, and something sweet, reminiscent of an an oil lamp.  
She felt the air change as his muscles tightened, and she gave a final suck before sitting back on her heels and releasing him. He pulled her hair hard, angling her head, and she closed her eyes in time to feel him spurt onto her face. It was accompanied by a low growl, deep and animalistic, and she grinned.

He didn’t let go of her hair right away, instead waiting for her to look back up at him. She licked her lips, savoring the taste of him and look that he gave her. It looked almost like anger, but it was different. Sly, and manipulative. She smiled, wiping the rest from her face and licking her fingers.

She stood then, standing on her tip toes and leaning on him, before pressing her lips to his and forcing the taste into his mouth. He growled again, hating her for that action. He shoved her away and yanked his pants back up, and set off about looking for his coat and his tie before storming off who knows where, shirt still undone. She laughed to herself and retrieved her dress, not bothering to put it on before slinking off in the opposite direction.


End file.
